The Dangerous Game
by The Essential Word
Summary: A short one-shot dealing with a scene between the Knight Captain and Bishop. Bishop wants to leave. The Knight Captain tries to get him to stay, only to find he manages to turn the tables on her...


The PC's role is filled by a female necromancer. This is simply a quick one-shot. Review, please, and enjoy.

XXX

Elvira was reading spells from her spell book when Bishop entered. His body blocked the doorway, his eyes narrowed.

"I'm done," he said.

Casually she rested her head in her hand, looking up at him. "Done with what exactly?"

"I am sick of following this group around like some little puppy." He lowered his face and it was partly shadowed. The only real light in the room was a torch on the wall. Even though it was bright, it still did not touch him. Instead, he was lit from behind by the torches in the hall, making him look strange and alien.

"But you're so useful."

"I can take my skills somewhere else, wherever I please. I'm not staying here, Elvira. You're lucky I even bothered telling you."

"What will it take for you to stay?"

"Nothing _you_ can give."

At that she stood up and sat facing him on the edge of the table. She did her best to look disinterested and bored. In all actuality, she felt the opposite. She felt wild and powerful, as she so often did when she toyed with men. Her heart was pumping wildly. A surge of adrenaline coursed through her.

She knew she had him wrapped around her finger. All it would take to make him snap would be a flash of leg under her dress. So she adjusted herself with her chest out, her legs showing up past the knee from her dress's slit.

There was a small smile on her face, and her dark eyes were half-lidded. Men fell for this. They always did. At least that had been the case in West Harbor.

"Are you sure you want to leave, Bishop? Don't you want to help me?" Her voice was a low purr. "Don't you want to stay?"

In a few steps he was over to where she was. He leaned in close to her, his hands clenched on the table on either side of her, his face inches from hers. His eyes focused on her, lit with strange ferocity. "You think you're so beautiful, don't you?" He grabbed her chin. She could feel the calluses on his hand from where he held his bow. "I've seen horrible things done to beautiful girls in my time. You're not the first to exist or the last. There are so many others just like you who think they can manipulate men to their bidding. And maybe they can, but I'm not one of them. Nobody…NOBODY controls me."

Tightening her lips, she cringed away from him. There was something in his eyes, some sort of emotion, that disgusted her, that sent her reeling. "Let go of me." Her protest came out desperate; it was much different from the confident little purr she had faked earlier.

He held on, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "Is that an order?"

"I swear to god my leg is in kicking distance of your crotch. If you don't let me go, I will release my full fury on your precious family jewels. And then you'll never have any beautiful girls, ever. No matter how many you claim there are. All you'll be able to do is stare at them and wish your manhood hadn't been kicked half-way up your throat."

He squinted at her face as if he were looking for something. He studied her dark, deep-set eyes, her long, dark hair, her thick red lips and saw something vaguely disturbing: she tried too hard. She slathered on the make up and wore her neckline low and tried to be beautiful. Truly she was just a little girl playing at being a woman.

She stared back at him, somewhat terrified and enchanted by the emotion in his amber eyes. Proudly, she pursed her lips and tried to hide her feelings. "You're boring me, really. You know what, Bishop dear? You can leave if you want to. So why don't you leave right now and quit annoying me?"

"What? And leave you all alone, poor and defenseless, princess? Defenseless against the evil men of the world?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Oh, I'm not that defenseless."

"Really? Have you ever really been with a man?"

"Of course I have. How can I not? You've seen how I am around men, surely you know?" The last comment was meant to be suggestive. "Surely you've seen how _nice _I can be." She couldn't be scared of him. To be scared would give him power over her and she dearly loved to have the upper-hand. This was her gambit, her game: power. And she would have it over _him._

The past few weeks, ever since they had met, had been filled with their thinly-veiled flirtations. She saw in him a strangely attractive bestial wildness he barely restrained. In her, he saw a dark, seductive soul.

Everybody could see the two were attracted to one another, but nobody approved of it. When the two were together, the others would raise their eyebrows. The only one, however, who ever really said anything about it was Casavir. He warned her of the danger constantly. Always her reply was to smile and say "No, Casavir, _I'm_ the one who's dangerous to _him_." He would sigh and shake his head.

At one point the paladin had been attracted to her. But as he watched her actions, her dark, manipulative ways, he grew to not like her. He protected her now out of duty, as he was quick to tell her; she knew it had nothing to do with love.

Perhaps his opinion was overly harsh. She thought so, at least. No, she didn't go out of her way to protect the poor, the pitiful and the innocent. But she didn't hurt them, either. She allowed them to simply be. All of that was quite agreeable to Bishop.

Now, all of this attraction, everything came to a head. His face was so close to hers. She smiled and pushed her lips against his.

There was a moment of shock, before he responded in kind, pushing her forcefully back. The only reason she was not flat on the table was because she had her arm out behind her.

Suddenly, he let go of her. She fell backwards on the table, banging her head. She sat up, looking confused.

"Ouch. What did you do that for?"

"Nobody controls me, knight-captain," he said coldly. "Not even you. I'm not going to fall for your stupid charms. When I bed someone, I want no strings attached."

"There doesn't necessarily have to be any strings, Bishop. Come on, it would be fun."

He was in the doorway, his back turned as he looked back at her. "When I want to, I'll leave. You'll know when I do. Consider this your warning."

As he left, she felt something in the pit of her stomach. Dread, perhaps, or fear. He was dangerous so, so dangerous. And she was drawn to him like a moth to a hot flame.

Oh, dear, dear me, she thought. Then she took up her spellbook and began reading again.


End file.
